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That's what they had said when they had come into his hospital room, clipboards in hand and curious, though not unkind, looks in their eyes.

It was natural for those who were healthy to be curious about the dying after all, and that was exactly what he had been doing, slowly and agonizingly, for the last three years.

It had started out innocuously enough, with a twinge in his temple when he would stand up or turn his head too quickly. The twinge had turned to a spike, and the spike into a burning lance, piercing his head with every movement.

For years he had devoted his life to becoming one of the most promising young talents in the computer technology world.

He felt it somewhat ironic that he would die not being able to stand looking at a monitor for more than five minutes without a morphine drip in place.

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